<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>pirouette, darling by eloha</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149493">pirouette, darling</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha'>eloha</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>devote embers [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Biting, Comeplay, Crossdressing, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Fire, Fishnets, Haki (One Piece), Jealousy Play, Light Masochism, Multi, Praise Kink, Rimming, Situational Humiliation, Teasing, Wet &amp; Messy, defiling a desk, inappropriate use of a cravat, prob not the way u think</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:15:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25149493</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/eloha/pseuds/eloha</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Give us a twirl baby.” </p><p>Fire licks underneath Ace’s skin, heated swirls ignited in the flare of pleated skirts, netted legs grazing together.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fushicho Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace/Sabo, Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Sabo, Portgas D. Ace/Sabo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>devote embers [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1808875</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pirouette, darling</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm back like I never left with the little trio that has been keeping me on a tight leash lately. This one is the lighter one of the series, but don't hold me to that. I really liked the aspect of this, but I don't think I got it across very well, but here you go anyways.</p><p>Enjoy &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Give us a twirl baby.” </p><p>Fire licks underneath Ace’s skin, heated swirls ignited in the flare of pleated skirts, netted legs grazing together. And oh, if it doesn’t swelter up inside of him; clumps of sunlight embedded in the waves beneath them.  </p><p>“Stop.” </p><p>Ace pauses, time stopping. He believes Chronos never even existed the way these men are so easily able to control it; <i>attain</i> it. </p><p>“He makes up such a wonderful view.” Sabo sighs, setting Ace on edge more. </p><p>“You should draw him.” Marco muses. </p><p>Sabo’s husky laugh at Marco’s quip makes him want to cover himself, flushing at the thought of it. If only he closed his eyes, he’d be able to picture Sabo arranging him the way he wanted; no doubt a demeaning position, probably somewhere on his knees- or his <i>back</i>. Staring down at him nonchalantly with a gloved hand wrapped around a sketchpad, pencil placed delicately between industrial vinyl.  </p><p>“Like I’d be able to capture <i>that</i> on paper.” </p><p>Ace lets out a quiet whimper, knowing he was the one referred to. Such praise from Sabo of all people is extremely delightful. Always so used to his meaner side, dangerous glint, feral smile. Whereas Marco <i>fawns</i> over him with coy smiles and delicate fingers, all soft edges before he turns razor sharp.  </p><p>“I suppose you’re right yoi.” Marco murmurs, a hitch to his words. </p><p>Ace wants to turn around and see what made him make that sound. Was it all because he’s looking at Ace? Or is Sabo taking advantage now that his back is turned? It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if the blonde already had a firm hand wrapped around his cock, whispering filthy, <i>vile</i> things along the shell of his ear. Out of reach, so out of touch from Ace. It makes him feel like nothing. </p><p>“<i>Sab</i>-” </p><p>“Quiet now, you don’t want to be heard, do you?” Teasing is the man’s voice, an airily little lilt to it that has Ace shuffling in place, “lift your skirt for me darling.” </p><p>Ace’s mouth feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, beaded drops of honey clouding the appendage. He thumbs the edges; thankful they can’t see the twitch it gives his cock when he raises the fabric up. </p><p>“Hmm, that’s it.” Sabo hums, making Marco moan at whatever it is he’s doing to him. </p><p>Ace rubs his thighs together if only for some type of relief, skin buzzing at the chafe fishnets leave along sensitive skin. Mind solely focused on the sounds coming behind him, his fingers curling in the too short skirt. He feels completely exposed, bare ass on display, heat scorching through his gut. Naked chest <i>heaving</i>. </p><p><i>Don’t worry darling, we’ll put the shirt on later</i>. </p><p>Ace doesn’t think there’s going to be a later, and if there is, then he sees no point in being trussed up in the garment. </p><p>He’s interrupted with his thoughts by a groan, obvious sounds of a slick hand bobbing down a shaft. </p><p>“Bend over the desk will you.” And Sabo sounds <i>impatient</i>. Spits the words out as if he told Ace to do that <i>hours</i> ago. </p><p>Ace shuffles forward. Fire and iron in the soles of his feet; flipping his skirt up until it’s laying atop his back so he can press against furniture. His nipples harden at how cold it is, shying away from it. <i>Really</i> feeling set on display now. It’s only a few short steps to their crew members, barely an inhale for the door to be knocked open because Sabo is <i>careless</i> also. Doesn’t give a fuck if he’s seen because usually he’s the one in place of <i>authority</i>. </p><p>It happened once, oh, Ace remembers it happening once. Threads digging into eager skin, studded glove scraping across his ass. Lucky Marco was attentive of the door opening before whoever it was could see the whole thing and had the present mind to cover him; though the scene didn’t stop, the insistent slaps raining down on his ass. Didn’t stop Marco from speaking in that <i>First Division Commander</i> tone. The one that gets everybody scrambling to do his bidding, that had Ace pulling up on the tips of his toes, begging Sabo for <i>more</i>. </p><p>Ace rocks forward, moaning when the pleated skirt rustles along his member. They would come in and see Ace just like this; bent over his own desk, skirt flipped up, fishnets almost up to his ass. </p><p>“I think someone’s enjoying this.” Sabo muses, “don’t you think so Mar?” </p><p>Marco grunts his response, bed creaking, Ace salivates. All it would take is a slight shift of his head and he’d be able to see what his two lovers are doing without him. </p><p>“I don’t-” </p><p>“I think Marco wants you to spread your cheeks, isn’t that right baby?” </p><p>Sabo must do something devilish to him because Marco lets out a wet sob. Ace can see it clearly, the way his jaw slackens, eyes rolling up. Knows that look because it’s engraved in him every time he swallows Marco into his tight little throat. </p><p>“<i>Oh</i>-” </p><p>“Is that a yes baby? You want to see our darlings' messy hole?” </p><p>The sound both men let out at that is <i>pitiful</i>, and Sabo giggles delightfully. Ace is fast, bringing his hands around to his ass to present himself, pressing a cheek onto the desk. </p><p>“Look at him, <i>look</i>,” Sabo says harder, desperate plea falling from Marco’s lips. </p><p>“You like him like that, right baby?” Fuck this is turning Ace on so much, and he can’t even <i>see</i> them, “You wanted him in a skirt so badly, look at how those tights <i>dig</i> into his thighs.” </p><p>Ace is trembling, tugging his bottom lip into his mouth, snapping his eyes closed so he can be awash in the sensation. <i>Feel</i> them without feeling them, <i>seeing</i> them without looking.  </p><p>“You’re <i>leaking</i> Marco.”  </p><p>Sabo is painting such a beautiful picture for him. Making sure the way he jerks Marco off sounds <i>sloppy</i>, wet squelches mingling in the air, litany of moans, words never ceasing so Ace knows exactly what Sabo is doing to their boyfriend. It’s romantic, in a way, because Sabo is also doing this for him. To let him know he’s not alone in his endeavors, acutely aware that they are <i>appreciating</i> him and his compliance.  </p><p>“T-that’s be<i>cause</i>, <i>oh fuck</i>.” Marco pants hard. </p><p>“What was that? You haven’t gotten a proper response out yet.” </p><p>Now would come the witty remark, narrowing of the eyes, threatening energy emanating from Marco, but there’s nothing. And Ace wonders how it feels to be Sabo. To have two dangerous men placed at his fingertips, the edge of his boots. Willing to do anything he says even if it’s on a whim, even if the act is utterly degrading. They do it for that sparkle, the glint of praise in his eyes even if it’s <i>sin</i> that drips from those lips. </p><p>“What is it baby? You want more?” </p><p>A gasp of surprise followed by wet smacking travels directly to Ace’s ears, whining at the over-dramatized kissing in the background. The men are doing their damnedest to set Ace on fire, make him lose the sliver of control he’s desperately holding onto. It’s torment; all the rustling, hissing- just imagines Marco nipping at the younger blonde’s lips, Sabo holding the base of his cock to stave off Marco’s orgasm. The rush he gets from hearing them break away, can see that hooded look both men are giving each other. </p><p>“Come here baby.” Sabo drawls. Oh, that raspy undertone. </p><p>Ace almost comes, close to turning on his heels, but he keeps his cheek pressed against the desk. Attentive of the fact that condensation is forming, morning dew, spit unhurriedly dripping out of his mouth. Ace digs his nails into the plush muscle of his ass, hole winking at the exposure. </p><p>“Finger yourself Ace.” Sabo says loudly, <i>too loud</i>. </p><p>Damn near anybody outside would be able to hear the filthy demand. He almost contemplates not doing it just based off that fact alone, but Marco ends up moaning loudly; all high pitched and needy, and if he does this then maybe Sabo will let him turn around. So Ace, as easy as he is, does what he’s told. Let's his forefinger trace around the pucker of his ass, swiping through too much lube and pressing in gingerly. He only gets up to a knuckle when Marco groans, sounding positively <i>wrecked</i>. </p><p>“That’s it darling, finger yourself for you commander.” Sabo must be the devil incarnate. </p><p>Ace pushes in deeper at that. </p><p>Spreads his legs wider to catch that perfect angle, fucking his finger in him slowly so both men can see the push, how is hole greedily tries to keep his digit in when he pulls out. And fuck it feels good, Ace closes his eyes, breathing picking up with the pace. One smooth stroke that leads to his prostate and Ace <i>keens</i>, rocks back on that finger like it’s a lifeline and his blondes are groaning behind him. </p><p>“You’re making your commander feel <i>so</i> good Ace, isn’t that right baby? Wanna tell your subordinate how badly you want to cum for him? Or maybe-” </p><p>Sabo’s dirty teasing fades off and Ace stills his finger inside himself, hoping he can catch the remnants of what he is saying. Fuck, he just <i>loves</i> it when Sabo gets this way, effortlessly balancing each man on the palm of his hand. Marco chokes out a moan at whatever it is the younger is telling him. </p><p>“<i>Please</i>, please Sabo.” </p><p>“Oh, you just beg so prettily baby. Ask me again.” Ace knows Sabo's smile is sinister, probably trying to coax the orgasm out of him harder since Marco is begging. </p><p>“Sab- <i>oh</i>, I want it-” </p><p>“Yeah? You want it baby.”  </p><p>Fuck. </p><p>The raven snatches his finger out. For good reason, if he kept it lodged inside of himself, no doubt he would find those nerves and get off to the sound of Sabo. Grabbing both cheeks Ace pulls them apart, hearing a whimper from one man. Or was that himself? He doesn’t even know, feeling stretched thin right now, so put on edge. </p><p>“<i>Chief</i>, please pleas-” </p><p>“You fucking <i>minx</i>.” Sabo hisses. </p><p>Ace wants to laugh at Marco hitting the spot that gets Sabo softest; the one that makes him roll over and coyly ask for belly rubs. Oh, they know it gets him frazzled, makes his eyes just a tad bit hazy, fingers twitching. Ace sucks his bottom lip in his mouth when he feels the weight of both men behind him, an eager cock slapping down on one of his hands before the heaviness is gone. </p><p>“Hands on the table Ace.” </p><p><i>Oh</i>. </p><p>That one little word must’ve really worked Sabo up, hard edges all in his voice. The blunt scrape of a knife grating eagerly at his skin, Ace lets his cheeks bounce back into place while he smacks his hands down on the table, arching his back. </p><p>“Go on Marco,” Sabo teases, behind the older blonde he must be, egging him on, “who knew you would get so turned on because of a fucking skirt. A <i>man</i> in a skirt.” </p><p>Ace wants to ask what <i>he</i> did to garner humiliation when it was Marco who so clearly pressed a button. And Marco didn’t just press it, he must have done something along with the sweet little <i>chief</i> rolling off his tongue that made Sabo snap. </p><p>“And your inferior at that,” Sabo whispers, scandalized.  </p><p>Ace hates him, hates his face for burning up in shame. </p><p>“Are you about to cum on him?” There’s a dangerous air to his voice, “I asked you a question Marco, <i>first division commander</i>, are you about to cum on your second in command?” </p><p>“<i>Oh god</i>-” </p><p>Ace can feel the shift that takes place in Marco, how his hand must be flying up and down his cock, being goaded on by Sabo’s words. Marco groans loudly, a pained sound if you ask Ace, but he wouldn’t tell anyone shit when that first spurt of cum lands on his ass. Marco aims at the crack, lets his essence slip down between Ace and he presses his forehead into the desk. Each stripe leads him over the edge, has fire licking across his skin that easily gets put out with a swipe of haki. </p><p>“You’re taking it so well darling.” Softer now, Sabo’s voice gliding through the air. </p><p>He only knows Marco is done when the older man tilts Ace’s head up by his chin and seals a quick kiss against his lips before letting him fall back down.  </p><p>“You look delectable like this.” Sabo praises- </p><p>And is that him kneeling behind Ace? </p><p>No- </p><p>Gloved fingers trail up netted stockings, stopping where the band digs into his upper thighs. </p><p>“I like these on you.” </p><p>Oh, his touch feels so good. </p><p>“Sabo,” breathless, a <i>plea</i>. </p><p>“Don’t worry darlin’, I’m going to take care of you.” </p><p>Ace wants to ask if that’s a threat, but it gets answered when the band is stretched back, cutting into the front of his thighs and the raven-haired man holds his breath, snaps his eyes closed. The <i>crack</i> of the elastic snapping back in place echoes in the room, it could’ve rattled the entire fucking ship, leaving Ace crying out. </p><p>“You want them to hear you?” Sabo inquires, greedy fingers on the opposite side, the same movements but he waits. Let's the taunt settle over Ace and he’s trembling, throat scratchy, eyes watering. </p><p>“Scream for me again baby.” </p><p><i>Snap</i> </p><p>Oh- oh. It’s searing hot, smoldering flames that easily get put out, coolness that drives Ace closer and closer. A tongue that laps up the cum, fuck- fuck is Sabo- </p><p>“<i>Sabo</i>.” Ace doesn’t even feel embarrassed at the sob, how fucked out he sounds. </p><p>Sabo just hums, keeps his tongue connected to his overheated skin, licking up every drop of Marco’s essence, feeding it to his waiting hole. Ace scratches at the table, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s aware that he’s crying, the furniture wet with his tears, and Sabo just continues to tease around his rim. Tongue spearing in and out of him, tantalizing licks, fingers digging harshly in the tights. </p><p>“Sabo! <i>Oh</i>, oh-” </p><p>Ace’s eyes fly open when cloth clouds his mouth, Marco standing above him with a wicked smile, fingers easily pressing- Ace looks down, seeing white.  </p><p>“Everyone’s gonna know what he’s doing to you if you keep that up yoi.” Marco teases. </p><p>The cloth gets damp fast, spurred on by Sabo relentlessly eating him out, wet and fucking <i>sloppy</i>. Fuck Ace can feel the spit and cum dripping between his thighs, hear how disgusting Sabo is <i>ravishing</i> him. Sabo <i>bites</i>, teeth penetrating the cheek of his ass and Ace blanks out. Eyes rolling back when Sabo <i>pulls</i> the skin between his teeth, slick leather tracing his perineum. </p><p>Ace is sure the cloth doesn’t hide the scream, can’t cover up the fact that the table is rocking harshly when Ace cums. It’s rugged, the force of his orgasm crackling out of him, and Sabo just, oh he just keeps biting. That dainty finger now pumping shallowly in and out of him, leaving Ace thrumming with aftershocks when his orgasm subsides. And Sabo just doesn’t <i>stop</i>- </p><p>“Is it good baby?” Sabo is covering his back, teeth on the shell of his ear, finger pressed in only up to a knuckle just sitting there, “you were so loud I’m sure everybody on this goddamn ship heard you.” </p><p>Sabo is crass, and Ace flicks his eyes up to see that vicious glint.  </p><p>God, he loves him. </p><p>“And you ruined my favorite cravat,” Sabo thrusts the cloth deeper, unamused. </p><p>His cock twitches in realization. </p><p>Ace’s screaming. Sabo’s cravat. Marco gagging Ace with Sabo’s <i>cravat</i>. </p><p>“I guess you’ll just have to make it up to me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Okay, okay, so listen. The 'commander' and 'chief' thing. Especially the 'chief'. I found that extremely appealing and didn't even realize it. So here I am, taking the dog for a walk, staring up at grey skies and it hits me- 'finger yourself for your commander'. I almost dropped the leash tbh. And the whole Sabo getting extra rough bc he's called 'chief'. Self indulgence at its finest.<br/>Hmm, the whole exhibitionism thing. I tagged that, but I'd like to say they were docked and nobody was actually on the ship. I just like giving a flare to things...</p><p>But really, the amount of notes I had written for this is absolutely insane. I figured since there are *possibly* going to be 2 more added to this series though, I would save it for them. Who knows. I change my mind about a lot of things while writing bc it doesn't all flow together like I hoped. I do hope you liked it though ^ . ^</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>